Arrow in a Broken Branch
by Silvercreekmama
Summary: Intense Caryl smut one shot. Rough, outside, jealous possesive Daryl.
1. Chapter 1

**I got the bug for this one shot after two very lovely ladies (SOA loving mom on here and llcad on tumblr) were kind enough to write pieces for my prompt of rough outdoor Caryl smut. Their writing was so good I felt cheesy for them writing what I was afraid to get out of my own head. So here is my version as a thank you to them.**

**WARNING: This has INTENSE sexual situations including light bondage. I have tried to make it VERY clear that Carol is a more than willing participant and in fact takes control verbally at times. This is after they have a very established relationship.**

**I wish to thank Silvercreekdaddy for assisting me in my research. ;-)**

Daryl pulled Carol behind him through the underbrush, her hand tightly in his fist. She ran, struggling to keep up. She stumbled once but recovered before he could turn fully to make sure she was ok.

"Ya..."

"Yes, I'm fine!" she assured him, pushing him forward with her free hand "Just get us where ever we're headed."

He hit the trail again. She had to know what he wanted or else she wouldn't be urging him on like this. It was that big fucker Tyreese's fault. Daryl had put up with his easy smile and smooth talk for the groups sake but today he pushed him too fuckin far. Carol hadn't noticed the the rip in her jeans when she put them on in the dim light of their cell this morning, or how she had gained enough weight for her breasts to be very noticable under that damned red tank top without a bra. This wasn't her fault, Daryl wasn't angry with her. But that sumbitch Tyreese...it was either take her out here for this or split the whole group when he put an arrow in that man's eye.

Daryl had been sitting in the common area finishing up his breakfast as Carol stood at the counter dishing out food to the Woodbury people. Tyreese had still been three people back in the line when Carol had dropped the ladle she was using and bent over to pick it up off the floor. The rip in her jeans was directly below her right ass cheek. It was only about an inch long, basically a place where the fabric had been worn clean through, not a real tear. But it was enough. Daryl saw the man's eyes go big at the edge of her pink panties and the dark brown freckle that resided just below them and then all he could see was red. She was HIS! He had mapped that fucking freckle with his TONGUE only two nights before. Before he could move from his table to her side she had the ladle and was standing up. Then to add insult to injury that big asshole had raked his eyes downward again, getting what Daryl knew was an eyeful of her breasts through the gaping neckline of her top. He couldn't really remember getting her from the kitchen to the hallway outside their cell, just a dim memory of yelling for Beth to take Carol's place as he pulled her behind him. He had given her two words before he stepped in to throw a couple things into his pack and grab his bow.

"Don't. Move."

They were at their destination now. He stopped short and she crashed into his back. He knew this tree looked just like all the other ones to her, but not to him. A week ago he had sat below this same pine as he waited for a buck he'd been tracking to pass. His mind had wondered as he waited, he had even stood and pulled on the base of the broken branch above his head, testing it's strength and height to see if it would hold... But then he had shook his head. No way could he do something like that with her, TO her, no matter how much he wanted it or her for that matter. She was too good, too perfect.

That was last week though, before Tyreese and his motherfuckin wondering eyes and hands that twitched like they wanted to follow right behind them. It was either this or murder.

Daryl dropped his pack next to the tree but kept his bow on his back. He turned, grabbing Carol around her waist and pushed her against the tree, trapping her body beneath his. Her hands immediately went to his face, pulling him to her lips but he grabbed both her wrists in his left hand and pinned them to the bark above her head.

"Daryl..."

"Ya trust me?" the question came out low, sounding almost obscene.

She didn't hesitate. "Totally...I'm yours."

He groaned at her words, it was like she could read the red haze soaked mess that was his mind right now. He pressed his forehead to hers, searching her eyes as he asked. "Ya know I won't hurt ya?"

"You can't. You love me."

His breath hitched. She knew him so well, inside and out. One last question, "Ya know I ain't pissed at you?"

"Yes. Now," she looked up at him with eyes so full of want that it scared him a little. "get on with it. I want it, whatever it is."

He felt his whole body go up in flames at her words. There would be no stopping now. He moved his right hand to his belt buckle, the metal clanging as he flipped it open and slid the whole thing through the loops. He brought it to her wrists and bound them in a knot that he knew from years of experience setting snares would keep them still without causing pain. She laid her head back on the bark, watching him through half lidded eyes, letting him have his way gladly. He hitched the knot of the belt up and over the base of the broken branch, pulling back until the square of the buckle was against the tree on top and her hands and wrists were safely under the thick branch. He needed them out of his way.

He pressed his body to hers and brought his lips to her ear as he slipped the bow off his back.

"Keep yer eyes closed and don't move yer hands till I tell ya."

She nodded and obeyed, her breath coming in short pants already.

Daryl took a step back and to the side. He lifted the bow higher than usual, taking a moment to double check the close shot and to confirm her eyes were closed and hands still tucked under the safety of the oak. The arrow flew and struck home with a satisfying thunk, quivering in the knot of the belt, effectively pinning Carol to the tree.

He slipped the bow to the ground, still within a milliseconds reach just in case they got interrupted. The ravine and ledge that bordered this grove protected it well from walkers, but he wasn't taking any chances, especially with Carol pinned down like she was.

"Good girl," he growled lasciviously, "all done." He was on her before she could fully open her eyes, mouth crushing hers as his hips dug his erection into her heat. One hand went for the buck knife at his waist while the other fisted the neckline of that damn red tank top. Carol whimpered and he smirked as he pulled away. The last time he had heard that sound was in their cell two nights ago, even though it had been muffled then because her thighs had been pressed to his ears as he worked. She wasn't afraid of him now anymore than she was then. The only thing that she feared was that he would stop.

"Don't like that big fucker wantin what's mine darlin'." Daryl pressed the knife down, reveling in the purr of the fabric parting under it's razor sharp edge. He watched as her breasts were revealed, his mouth watering when her nipples tightened as soon as the cool air touched them.

"Me neither, baby."

His head snapped up, meeting Carol's smirk with wide eyes. Fuck, she was planning on doing her part in this. Good.

He looked back down as he skimmed the blunt side of the blade down her quivering stomach. She moaned and then he dipped the knife lower and flicked his wrist. The button to her jeans flipped off, forever lost on the forest floor. The gut hook on the end of the blade snagged her zipper and pulled it down.

"Gonna hav'ta go on a run and get ya some new pants. WITHOUT holes in'em."

"Looks like it..."

Daryl chuckled darkly as he knelt at her feet. He ran his free hand firmly between her legs, smirking as she bucked into it. He didn't repeat the action, just let his fingers continue under and then back up her ass until he hooked them into her waistband and pulled. Carol wiggled her hips and then toed off her boots so he could strip the jeans from her legs. He returned the knife back against her skin, carefully sliding it under the string on her hip from her bikini panties. She spoke before he could.

"We wouldn't want anybody knowing what color panties your property wears, would we?"

Daryl growled and pressed his forehead to her stomach, eyes closed as her scent overtook him.

"Damn, darlin', your killin' me here."

After a second he drew back and watched his knife work, making sure to keep the sharp edge away from her tender alabaster skin. There was a dull pop, then another as both sides of elastic gave way and the offending underwear fell at their feet as he jammed the knife in the tree beside her hip.

"Much bet..."

Carol's words died in a surprised squeak as Daryls hands pinned her hips against the tree, the bark digging into her ass. He squinted up at her, his intensity returned.

"Tell me who you belong to."

She returned his heady gaze despite the excited tremors in her legs.

"You. Only you."

He cocked an eyebrow and began to trace his tongue over her hips, moving down to her inner thighs as his palms pressed him open. She dug her toes into the dirt trying to angle her core to his mouth but he drew back shaking his head.

"Tell me."

"You, I said. YOU!"

Daryl leaned forward and slipped Carol's legs over his broad shoulders one at a time. He was careful to keep her weight on him and off her arms pinned to the tree, using them only to keep her balanced against the trunk. He gripped her hips and dug his tongue in, ruthlessly assaulting her clit. She shrieked, the intensely different position strumming her senses just as much as the actions of his talented mouth. Just as she felt the muscles in her belly clenching, readying for her release, he stilled and she heard him murmur as the vibrations from his words made her squirm.

"Tell me who you belong to. THE NAME!"

Carol was nearly sobbing, her body no longer her own, completely at his whim as her feet dangled over the muscles of his back.

"Please...you baby...Daryl...the only man...to ever make me come...Daryl FUCKING DIXON!" Her last pleas rose to cries of pleasure as he snarled and then sucked hard on the engorged bead he had his lips over. Hearing that word on her lips for the first time, as she claimed herself as his, was what he had needed since that morning at breakfast, maybe his whole life. She had lost every bit of control, not even lost it just handed it over to him without a thought, trusting him with what he believed was the most precious thing in that world.

Her legs were still jerking when he slipped them down his arms. He kept her trapped between his body and the tree as he rose and then shoved his hands between them to free himself from his pants. She was pulling her legs apart for him even before he grabbed her ass and hitched her up against him. She angled her hips just so and he slid home, her wet and heat more intense than he had ever known it.

Coherent thought, even a sense of rhythm left his mind as he bucked mindlessly. The rage that heated his blood earlier had boiled away to leave pure blinding want, a need for a depth of connection he had yet to know. Daryl dug his boots into the earth as he leaned into her. Carol bowed her back to give him a better angle and that was it. He hit a physical and emotional high that left him crying out into her shoulder, unintelligible syllables that spoke volumes to her soul.

Daryl came back to himself slowly, the tree holding their spent bodies upright now that both their feet were on the ground. Before he could find the strength to lift his head he brought his hand above them to jerk the arrow out of the belt and tree and throw it to the ground. He unhooked her wrists from the broken branch and brought them over his own head before collapsing gracelessly on the ground with an "oof". Carol giggled from where she had landed on his chest.

He looked down at her confused "Wha-?"

"I really hope you have some clothes for me in that bag."

Daryl chuckled. "Course I do, I ain't stupid."

He motioned for her hands and she brought them down to his chest so he could unbind them. He kissed the insides of her wrists gently, relieved that the knot had stayed true and left no lasting marks. He slipped the tatters of the tank top from her shoulders and ran his hands over her upper arms lovingly.

"Your shoulders okay? I'm sorry if..."

Carol cut him off. "Daryl, I'm fine. You were very careful, alright. Don't apologize for something we both needed."

Daryl into her eyes and nodded, confident in what he saw there. She was telling the truth.

He dug her clothes out of his bag and pulled his knife out of the tree as she dressed in the quiet. Before he shouldered his bow he drove that arrow back into the broken branch. Even if they never repeated what they had shared that day he wanted to mark the place it had happened.

They walked back to the prison hand in hand, confident that they each belonged to the other and no one else, heart and soul.

**Yep, the rumors are true, I'm a review whore. Let me know what you like and what you don't. I may use this as a place to dump random smut scenes if y'all want. Thank for reading!**


	2. Harder

**WOW! I had no idea how many people craved BDSM Caryl. I honestly see it as a way to work out their trust issues, but thats me. So here it is, it's a long one (snicker) Sorry, I've been writing smut all day.**

**WARNING: It's BDSM guys. Somebody is gonna get tied up and somebody else is going to inflict (minimal) pain. Both partners are obviously consenting with the 'submissive' urging on their partner verbally. You have been warned.**

**Reviews get unicorns and rainbows.**

Carol was dangling dangerously close to the edge. Weeks of managing the kitchen, laundry and caring for Judith without a break had worn her nerves to a frazzle. She needed some kind of release, maybe she could go outside and take out some walkers through the safety of the fence.

She turned from where she stood washing dishes, trying her best not to slam the last dry dish on the counter. Karen was leaned against the far wall, staring across the room. Carol followed the woman's gaze and sighed when she found the target. Of course, the woman had been throwing herself at him for the last weeks. He was just sitting at one of the tables, trying to finish the stew Carol had reheated when he came in from his hunt after everyone else had eaten, oblivious to the woman who was doing her best to undress him with her eyes. Carol silently considered releasing her tension by ramming her fist in Karen's face but then dismissed the thought when her eyes lit on the quiver of arrows propped up at Daryl's feet. Suddenly a very vivid image flashed in her brain.

Carol gripped the counter behind her with white knuckles, this was crazy. Where the hell had that come from? No way would Daryl let her do that! But then she remembered what he had done to her only a week ago. Before then , no way would she had thought Daryl would tie her wrists with his belt, pin it down with an arrow, and do what he did that day. And she had liked it, more than liked it actually. She clamped her legs together as she felt the blush creep up her cheeks. When she brought her eyes back up, it met Daryl's own intense blue. He was staring at her now, a smirk threatening at the corner of his mouth.

He knew.

Before she could react, he stood lazily and ran his hands down to his belt, seemingly to adjust the position of the buckle but she knew better. That move wasn't innocent. That was meant for her. That damn belt.

Good. If he wanted to play, she would play.

He sauntered over to her at the counter, leaning on it with the bow and quiver dangling over one arm.

"Ya alright?"

Carol looked back at Daryl through narrowed eyes. He looked like the cat who had eaten then canary.

And she was the canary.

"Yes, fine, why do you ask?" she tried to sound nonchalant as she ran the cloth over the metal cup that had found it's way into her hand again.

"Can ya feel it?"

Carol looked up at him wide eyed. "Feel what?"

He snorted and then leaned in to whisper. "The hole that bitch is starin through your back."

Carol shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. "It's not me she's staring at, you know it."

"Well, she needs to take a fuckin hint."

Carol turned to face Daryl, suddenly bold. Hell, what's good for the goose is good for the gander. She reached around his arm and plucked one of the shiny aluminum arrows and tested its weight in her hands. It was light, but strong, perfect for...

She spoke before her mind could go much further down that road. "This is new."

He nodded. "Yeah, found it when we made that run to that sportin goods store. It's light, made for speed."

"You used it yet?"

He cocked an eye brow at her. "Naw, didn't need it just ta bag a few squirrels. Now give it here." He seemed to be suspicious now. He reached for the arrow but Carol pulled it back.

"Nope."

"What the hell you mean nope? It's mine, now give it back." his voice had dropped now, turning husky. He brought his head down to her ear. "Woman, don't start this shit when we got an audience. I will beat your ass."

Carol wiggled her eyebrows at him. "Promise?"

Daryl turned to face the counter, she knew to cover the erection that was starting to build. She couldn't believe he was responding like this and she hadn't even touched him yet. Apparently he was as on edge as she was.

Carol tapped the arrow on the counter, acting like she was pondering a deep thought. She spoke low so only he could hear. "Tell you what, you run take a shower and meet me in Cell Block D in an hour. If you play nice then I'll give your bolt back."

Daryl gave her a death glare. "I don't fuckin play nice!" he hissed.

"I think you will. Oh, and," Carol leaned over so her breath was in his ear, " you might want to blow off some steam in the shower, if you know what I mean, I've got plans and I'd hate for it to be over too quickly." Carol gave his bottom a pat and then turned to give the wide eyed Karen a sweet smile.

Take that hint, bitch.

She headed to the newly cleared cell block as she heard Daryl snatch up his gear with a growl and head for the showers.

TWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWD

Carol was just tucking the clean sheet in around the mattress when she heard the bow slide to the floor to rest against the wall. She jumped. Shit, he was early.

She put on her best calm face and turned, arms crossed across her chest.

"You're early."

Daryl shrugged, his wet hair sticking to his neck. He had dressed the jeans she had washed that morning, they were beyond worn and basically torn to shreds around the knees. He had gained weight since the Woodbury stores had been added and it had hit him in all the right places. His shoulders had seemed to get wider (if that was even possible) and his jeans actually fit his ass now. He was wearing his oldest most worn sleeveless shirt, the thin brown cotton plaid stuck to his still damp body. She knew under that shirt, his stomach was now muscled and flat, not the slight concave curve they all had after last winter's starvation. In fact, just last night she had braced her hands across that stomach as she had...

Carol was broken from her thoughts by hot breath on her neck. She snapped her eyes open (when had she closed them anyway?). He now stood behind her, not really touching her, but close enough that she could feel the heat from his body radiating to her back. Damn man moved like a rattlesnake.

"Carol?" he ground out the word, using that voice that he knew made her knees shake. " Ya alright? Ya been actin funny t'day. Like ya want somethin'."

She steeled her gaze before turning around.

"Clothes off please." she tried her best to make it sound like a command.

Daryl snorted and raised an eyebrow. "Really? Ya want me ta strip?"

She nodded, imitating his smirk.

His hands hesitated on his top button. "I ain't about ta dance and shit."

She just made a 'get on with it' motion with her hand as she leaned back against the cool concrete. Daryl proceeded to unbutton his shirt top to bottom, keeping eye contact even when he shrugged out of it and tossed it in the corner. It had been months since he had been afraid of meeting her eyes or being shirtless in front of her, thank God. He then sat on the bed for just a moment to remove his boots and socks. Now for the hard part.

They both knew what even just the sight of his belt brought to mind for them both. Daryl stood and unbuckled it with exaggerated movements, letting his hands glide over the leather and the buckle jingle loudly as he lopsidedly grinned at her. Carol's stomach clenched, but she fought to stay cool on the outside. She wanted to be in control this time, but Daryl wasn't going to give it up without a fight. Somehow, that made the whole idea even more arousing.

He shucked his jeans and stood there in his black boxers, her favorites. When he hesitated, she spoke up quietly.

"Those too."

He just gave a quick "Damn." as he peeled off the underwear.

His arousal was very evident. Carol's mouth suddenly got very dry at the sight of what already jutted up, rock hard. She had to lick her lips before saying anything, the quake in her voice belying the heat between her thighs.

"I thought you were going to let off some steam in the shower."

Daryl grinned at her slyly, snaking his hand around his cock to give it an tug. "I did. But the way you're actin, didn't take too long to build back up."

She was suddenly assaulted with the image of Daryl slumped against the shower wall, as his fist worked furiously...

Sweet Heavenly God, this was more difficult than she thought...

That was it. Time to get to work. Carol approached Daryl and pulled his hand away from himself. His eyes widened as she pushed him against the bed and down to sit, her standing still fully clothed between his thighs.

"My turn."

He nodded and she slowly pulled off the top. She had purposely already removed her bra, knowing how that drove him crazy. As soon as her breasts came into view she felt his heavenly calloused hands on her back as he pushed her chest toward his mouth but she pushed back, and shook her head. He growled but complied, putting his hands back on the bed so he could lean back to see her better.

She then wiggled out of her own jeans and toed out of her sneakers to leave herself standing in just the black thongs she had recently acquired. He had yet to see her in these.

"Where'd ya get those?" his voice sounded half strangled.

"Oh these old things, Maggie picked them up for me the last time she went on a run."

Carol turned to give him a back view and she heard his quick intake of breath at the sight of her basically bare ass with the black strings.

"Darlin, if ya want me ta keep my hands ta myself right now, that ain't the way ta do it."

Carol turned around quickly. "I've got some things I want to do first Daryl. Now grab that damn belt of yours."

She had never seen him move so fast. In a few seconds he had her wrists in one hand and the belt in the other but she twisted out of his grasp and grabbed the belt herself.

He looked at her confused, until she gave him his answer.

"Do you trust me?"

His mouth dropped open as realization crept over his face. "Carol, I...I..."

"Daryl, I asked Do you trust me?" she slid the belt through her hands, wrapping it around her fist, then slowly unwrapping it. She was pretty sure she saw a glint of excitement under his apprehension.

"Hell, yeah, you know I do."

"Do you know I won't hurt you?"

"You sure as hell better not."

Carol laughed, placing a peck on his nose, careful to keep her body from rubbing against his. But then she turned serious.

"Daryl, if you don't want this we can stop right now and do our usual stuff. No questions asked, it's fantastic too."

He leaned back to look into her eyes. Tilting his head he seemed to be trying to read her mind. Then a slow smile spread across his face.

"Nah, I want it. I trust ya. Just no 'back door' funny business, a'right?"

"Deal, Mr. Dixon. Now, your wrists please?" she tied his wrists as best as she could with the belt and the urged him to lie back on the bed. She then tied his hands to the headboard, leaving enough slack that he could turn over to his stomach if needed.

Carol tried to mentally summon any and every sexual entity in existence as she stood beside the bed. She then turned and shimmied down the strings of the g-string, making sure to bend over completely and slowly so he could see how wet she was from this different view point. She smiled and stood when she heard the belt buckle clang against the metal headboard as he pulled against it.

His nostrils were flared when she turned around. "Fuckin tease." he growled.

She just shrugged. He then asked, "When'd ya shave?" Carol giggled as she climbed over him. "I'm flattered you noticed, Daryl." He snorted, "Yea, like I wouldn't noti-FUCK!"

She had slid up against him, letting the newly shaved smooth skin and the her wet heat trail lightly over the tip of his cock. She stilled herself as his body relaxed. "You alright?"

Daryl looked at her through suddenly darker eyes. "I will be, as soon as I fuck the living daylights out of ya." He bucked up against her and she was only barely able to keep him from thrusting into her.

She laughed, "Daryl, I'm surprised at you. You always make sure I'm taken care of first."

He grinned sheepishly. "Not the first time if I 'member right."

She nodded," Truuuuuuuuuuue. But that was a beginner fluke. You were a fast learner after that." Carol knew that the fact she had been his first had been a bit embarrassing for him so she turned it into a compliment.

She resumed her teasing, conscious to keep him from entering her. She licked and and sucked his nipples. Then she gently scraped her front teeth over one and had to hold back a laugh as the belt buckle clanged, his arms flexed and he muttered curses beneath her.

She then moved down his stomach, his breath coming faster as she hovered over his stiff cock. He looked so expectant she hated to disappoint him. But he was close to the edge and she didn't want this over like that.

Carol crawled off to the side and patted his hip. "Roll over." Daryl gaped at her, then rolled over, having to twist his hips to adjust his cock against his stomach since his hands were still tied above his head. He was pouting and Carol was pretty sure she heard a "Bitch" said under his breath. She had to cover her mouth to contain the laugh that threatened.

She then started on his shoulders. Oh, his glorious shoulders. Carol licked and kissed her way over every dip and bulge, loving how his hands being bound above his head strained the muscles enough to bring out their outlines. When she was finished she straddled his ass and pushed herself against him. He gasped and writhed beneath her when he felt her wet heat against him.

Maggie had given her a tip to try, as they had talked casually folding laundry. Of course she would never tell Daryl her source. Carol moved down between his legs and let her fingers move under him to grasp his scrotum. That was nothing new, she had found that particular hot spot of his fairly quickly. He responded like usual, growling as she stroked and then gently tugged. But then she added her other hand. She pressed just behind his sac firmly with her thumb. Daryl's legs stiffened up suddenly and his head reared back from the pillow. "THE FUCK! Shit...Carol..."

She did it again and he jerked himself away from her hands before ordering over his shoulder "STOP! I WILL FUCKIN COME ON THESE SHEETS IF YOU DO THAT AGAIN!"

Well, whadya know? She would have to thank Maggie later.

Carol moved back up his trembling body and paused to place a kiss over his now sweat drenched neck as he backed down from what must have been the proverbial 'point of no return'. She leaned over and grabbed the aluminum arrow from under the bed where she had hidden it after she had removed the point. Daryl saw it as she brought it past his head and growled "Woman..." warningly. She straddled him again, assuring him that he had laid down the ground rules already and his 'back door' was quite safe. Good Lord.

She trailed the shaft of the arrow down his back knowing the cold metal would feel much different after her warm mouth. She watched delightedly as he sighed and then shuddered as prickly gooseflesh studded his shoulders and back.

Carol trailed the arrow down his right ass cheek, asking "Daryl, you sure do like to smack my ass alot when you take me from behind?"

Daryl rolled his head between his shoulders before answering, "Yeah, you seem like it pretty we-"

SMACK

She didn't bring the arrow down and across him hard at all, not even close to the strength he had used with his hand on her before. But it had been enough. He jerked like he was shot and buried his face in the pillow.

Either he really liked it, or he really didn't.

Daryl turned his face to the side after a few tense moments and Carol braced for the yelling at she was about to get. Instead she got the surprise of her life when he gave her one word, halfway between a plea and a whimper.

"Again?"

She honestly just wanted to sit back a minute and just assess the situation. She, little Carol Ann, had Daryl freaking Dixon, the biggest badass motorcycle riding walker killer in Georgia, tied to a bed with his own belt begging her to whip his ass with one of his own arrows.

There was no possible way this was real. She was asleep in her cell having one messed up sex dream that's what this was. She would wake up very shortly, very wet and disappointed, she was sure of it.

Carol was dragged back to reality by his voice.

"Carol, I said again, please?"

She had never heard him like this, so needy, practically begging. And it was doing crazy things to her nether regions. Dream or not she wasn't going to waste this opportunity. She brought the arrow down again. God, it sounded so loud bouncing off the walls.

Daryl jerked and groaned.

"Harder."

This was a command, not a request.

Fuck. And she did not use that word lightly.

SMACK

"Dammit, woman, I ain't gonna break, I said HARDER!"

Down it came, this time to leave a whelp she was sure. Daryl's arms flexed and she watched the metal of the headboard bend as it screeched. Carol had the sudden thought that if he broke through that metal headboard and she saw it, she would come right there where she sat between his legs.

Twice more, at his urging. He was now muttering into the pillow with his eyes rolled back in his head. She barely made out "fuck, feels so good" and she was done. Absolutely done, she needed some relief in this hallucinogenic wet dream before she woke up. She tossed the arrow down on the floor, ignoring it as it clattered and skipped away.

Carol pushed on Daryl's hip until he rolled over. He still seemed half out of it, lost in some pain/lust haze until she positioned herself over his cock, which was definitely much more engorged than she had ever seen it. He suddenly shook his head and she stopped, just as she was about to push onto him.

"What?" was that her voice? That sounded really needy yourself, Carol Ann.

"You need to do something for me..."

She looked down at him, was that a grin?

"Daryl, I've been doing a hell of a whole lot for YOU! What do you want now?"

"C'mere." he whispered, licking his lips.

She leaned down until her ear was over his mouth. "What do you want me to do?"

He whispered almost sweetly, "I want you to learn how to tie a fuckin knot."

Shit.

Two bands of iron clamped down around her waist and she felt herself fly, lifted from the bed. He had her back on the bed on her hands and knees before she could shriek. He leaned down behind her growling in her ear, "Ya didn't think I was gonna make ya do ALL the work, didya darlin?" He kicked her knees apart with his own and promised "I ain't gonna hurt ya, but I SURE AS HELL ain't gonna be gentle. A'right?" She had one last card to play. He loved it when he heard his filthy mouth come out of her own. She looked back and fluttered her eyelashes.

"Daryl, fuck me hard, please?"

He drove into her with a guttural noise that had her toes curling. He was so big this time, she was sure she would be sore in the morning and looked forward to it. After only a few thrusts she felt herself building, lacking only a tiny push. She was about to slide her fingers down to her clit when she felt his hand slide up her neck and into her curls, now grown out several inches over the past few months. It tightened experimentally then hesitated.

"Do it, Daryl", she moaned, surprising herself subconsciously with the amount of porn star in her voice.

That permission was all he needed, he grasped her hair with one hand and pulled back (she didn't miss the other arm around her waist keeping her full weight off her scalp, one of these days he was going to stop acting like he was going to break her), bringing her back to his chest. The sudden change of angle forced them both into coming so strongly that her screams echoed off the concrete as he bit her shoulder hard.

It was a long time before either could speak afterward. They had just collapsed forward so he lay half across her as they both lay on their stomachs. He finally ran his thumb over the teeth marks on her shoulder, kissed it and then mumbled "sorry."

"no, you're not." Carol giggled as she stretched her legs under his.

"Well, ya best not tell ANYBODY I let ya whip my ass with that arrow."

She pushed up on her elbows and rolled her eyes, "Let me? LET ME? I seem to remember SOMEBODY telling me to hit you HARDER, that you wouldn't BREAK!"

He looked away suddenly, his blush evident on his ears as he covered his eyes with one hand. "Fuck, I'm a pervert."

She grabbed his hand and said seriously, "Well, if you're a pervert, then I'm a BIG one for having the idea in the first place. It's ok." she snuggled into his chest, "Since I'm the only woman you've been with, I must have made you one. Sorry."

He looked down and grinned as he shook his head.

"No, you're not."


	3. Dirty

**Thank you all so much! I want to apologize for the long wait, the muse left me for a little while. I'm the type of person that won't post things if I don't feel their just right. I have a couple more chapters in the works already. One involves the tower and handcuffs (suggestion from SOA lovin mom),another involving whiskey and honey, and a darker angsty one with a whip that kinda explores why 'rough stuff' works with these two. I will also be glad to take suggestions, but I only write things I've done myself (but that leaves out very little ;)**

**On to this chapter. Who doesn't love drunk dirty talkin Daryl? No BDSM in this one.**

"You're drunk."

Carol didn't say the words accusingly, just stated a fact as she stood in front of Daryl with her arms crossed. He looked up at her from the step he was perched on and grinned.

"Not quite, but I'm gettin' there."

She huffed and sat beside him, close enough that their shoulders and knees touched. The common room was empty now, the reception ( or as close they could get to pulling off one) was over, and Maggie and Glenn were safely ensconced in the wardens office with the door locked. Daryl and Carol were the only two left, sitting on the metal steps that led up to the perch as he nursed the bottle of Southern Comfort.

Carol leaned back and looked at Daryl with a smirk. He wasn't a scary or violent drunk like Ed. The liquor seemed to loosen him up and it made him pretty funny too. He turned his head and gave her a lop sided grin.

"Hey, whatcha thinkin' bout?"

He leaned toward her, setting the bottle on the step above them. Suddenly, he was almost nose to nose with her, his breath hot on her lips.

"Hey, darlin'" Daryl drew that word out, " I said what'cha thinkin' bout." Carol immediately felt the blush burn her face. Daryl only called her "darlin'" when they were alone. And they had never been 'alone' like that after he had been drinking. The thought excited her, at odds with the fear she had felt with Ed's drunken fumblings.

"You."

Daryl cocked an eyebrow. "Whatta bout me?"

Carol closed the last half inch between them, her lips hungry. Daryl froze for a second, obviously surprised, despite their months long relationship. Good, she thought.

God, he always tasted so good. Like smoke and now the burn of Southern Comfort. It made her gut pull down low. They broke the kiss and before she could catch her breath she found herself pulled up and over to straddle his lap. Even drunk he was so damn strong and fast. She steadied herself with her hands on his shoulders and leaned her forehead to his as they both panted.

"That. That is what I was thinking about, and other stuff...things..."

Daryl snorted like she had made some kind of hilarious joke. Then a broad hand was at the base of her neck pulling her lips back to his as the other snaked under her shirt. He grumbled a little when he found a barrier to his prize.

Carol pulled back with a smirk and shook her head. "Uh uh, Mister, you're the one that told me that if I didn't quit going braless I was in for an ass whippin'!" she tried to growl out the last words in a bad imitation on the man beneath her. He just chuckled quietly and whispered, "Off. Now."

Carol complied, drawing her arms into her shirt for a minute to remove her bra. They had been together totally naked before, but this was different. It was clandestine, almost forbidden, out in the common area like this with everyone so close as they slept in their cells. She felt like a teenager making out with her boyfriend under the bleachers.

Both Daryl's hands were under her shirt now as she had initiated another kiss without his help. They were both hungry, teeth and tongues bold. She arched her back when his hands cupped her breasts, seeking out more pressure. Then he rolled both nipples simultaneously between his calloused thumbs and fingers. Her reaction was immediate, her hips digging down to find some relief in the friction of his jean clad erection.

Daryl's head snapped back at the contact and he moaned loudly. Carol put her hands over his mouth, shushing him.

"Shhhhhhh," she giggled, "everybody'll hear!" She removed her hands when she was sure he had gained his composure. He looked at her sheepishly.

"Sorry, I'ma loud drunk."

She thought back to the night at the CDC. It was true, he was a loud drunk. She stood, trying her best not to fall down the steps. He gripped her hand and followed a little unsteadily, grabbing the liquor bottle.

"Come on," she whispered "if I'm going to take advantage of you, it can't be here!"

"Take advantage?" Daryl murmured as he weaved behind her "Always heard ya cain't rape a willin' soul."

Carol stifled a laugh, leading him to the little half bath that was off the common area, apparently for the guards use while on duty. She flipped the light on as she shut the door behind them, thankful that Rick had okayed the use of the generators for the night of the wedding. Daryl was on her immediately, his arms around her waist from behind, pressing her to him as his mouth worked at her neck. The bulge in his jeans was digging into her ass and she ground against it now that there was a cinderblock wall between his groans and the others.

Daryl's hands dug into her hips for a second before going to the hem of her top, ripping it roughly over her head. He then went for his own shirt, throwing it on the floor with hers. He angled her toward the countertop, remaining behind her and she had a second of confusion. Then she looked straight ahead and understood.

They were now in front of the mirror, reflected back from mid thigh up. "Daryl!" she hissed. He chuckled and met her eyes in their reflection, a wicked grin on his face. "Ya've made me a dirty bastard, darlin. Now watch, I want ya ta see what I get ta see ever time."

Carol closed her eyes and shook her head. This was too much, she didn't want to look at herself. All she could see were the scars from Ed, too sharp hip bones, and breasts that weren't as pert as they were ten years ago.

"Uh uh.," Daryl's hands went to her jaw gently, directing her head back to the mirror. "Please, for me. I want ya ta watch me take what's mine." Carol hesitated, but then drug her eyes back up, focused on watching the parts of Daryl she could see. His hands slid up the skin of her stomach to cup her breasts.

"These. They belong ta me. Thass why I don't like ya goin without a bra. Pisses me off when I see men lookin' at'em." he moved his fingers to roll her nipples, making her arch and press against him. "Fuckin' love your tits. They're soft, jus enough ta fill my hands. Not fake and plastic like some skank."

Daryl cupped her breasts one more time before moving his hands up to her neck, shifting her head to one side so he could nip the sensitive skin before growling in her ear. "Ya taste so fuckin good."

Carol moaned as he ran his tongue over the skin where her neck met her shoulder. She mentally thanked the creator of Southern Comfort, Daryl was never this talkative in bed and this was damn near the most erotic thing he had ever done, just watching his hands on her as he talked had her trembling.

His hands drifted down her stomach to her hips. She silently scoffed, not much he was going to find there.

"So tiny, like yer fuckin' fragile or somethin'. I use'ta be afraid I'd break ya. Know better now." His breath was hot in her ear as his finger tips traced her thighs. "Love your fuckin' legs. Mostly when they're wrapped around m'waist," he licked a line from her shoulder to her ear before murmuring "or around m'neck."

Daryl flipped open the button on her jeans, slid down the zipper, and then hooked his thumbs into the waistband. She shimmied out of the jeans as he knelt to pull them off along with her panties. Carol didn't dare speak, afraid to break the spell the alcohol had woven.

Daryl came back up behind her with the liquor bottle in his hand, he must have grabbed it off the floor. He took a long pull from the almost empty bottle and then tipped it toward her lips. She usually would have refused but took a little this time. Carol coughed only a little, the hot liquid burning a trail down her throat.

Daryl then trailed the lip of the bottle down her neck and used it to tease her nipple. He smirked at her in the mirror when she gasped at the cold glass on the sensitive bud. Then the bottle skimmed over her stomach in a lazy curve and she watched with widening eyes as the lip moved through the curls between her thighs.

Daryl chuckled. "Relax, darlin', I ain't THAT drunk. I ain't puttin nuthin in ya that ain't firmly attached ta ME."

He placed the bottle on the counter in front of them unsteadily, making sure his view of the mirror was unobstructed. Then his hands wove theirselves across her stomach. One then moved down and her head tilted back on Daryl's shoulder as her hands moved behind her head to tangle in his hair. But the second her eyes closed his hands stopped moving.

"Nope." he growled, "Not unless ya open those eyes and watch."

Carol whined in frustration but he was adamant. So she drug open her lust heavy eyelids just so he would do something, ANYTHING to ease that ache.

Daryl's boot tapped the inside of one of her ankles and then the other to urge her legs a few more inches apart. When she complied he gave her a "Good girl." (only slightly slurred). Then he finally edged his hands back down, both their eyes trained on the mirror. She stiffened and moaned when he ran one broad middle finger just inside her wet slit.

"So fuckin wet already...and it's all mine." He gently pressed her clit now, smirking at her in the mirror when she keened and rose tensely onto the balls of her feet.

"Ain't a man alive whose had this, and I'll kill any that try."

His lips found her neck again, the hand that wasn't between her legs cupping a breast before pinching the nipple and heading south.

Daryl's finger circled and then the other hand joined it, pulling her open a little. Carol moaned when the cool air touched her wet warmth, the sight of his hands working in her most intimate place somehow so dirty, illicit even as it felt so right and natural.

He moved his finger from her clit lower and she watched as he dipped it into her, first just halfway to tease but then suddenly plunging deep, leaning them both over a little to reach. He hissed when she gripped him.

"So damn TIGHT, darlin', even on just my finger. You're like a fuckin vise grip on my dick."

Daryl stepped to her side, still right up against her, his erection digging into the side of her hip. Another finger joined the one inside her and his other hand gripped her ass. She was riding his hand now, her body seeking it's release. No longer finding difficulty, she couldn't drag her eyes AWAY from the show in front of her as Daryl played her body like it was a fine instrument.

This woman in the mirror wasn't Carol anymore, couldn't be. Carol was plain, mousy, blending into the background. The woman she saw before her now was a porn star, or maybe a sex goddess. She watched as that woman's hands snaked up her own body to grasp her nipples and roll them. She shuddered when the sensation rocketed from her breasts to where Daryl's hands worked, still not sensing the connection between what she saw and what she felt. That "other woman" was now flushed, slick with sweat, and moaning with abandon. Daryl now was murmuring nonstop in her ear, urging her on, that she was his dirty girl, and he wanted her to see how beautiful she was when she came.

And come she did then, the sensation coiling like a snake in her gut then unleashing suddenly. Daryl had to move his hand from her ass to wrap around her waist to support her from hitting the floor even as his other worked between her legs to prolong her pleasure as long as he could. His name ripped from her throat, sounding so loud in the confines of the small bathroom.

It was several long moments until Carol came to herself, jerking and almost whining when Daryl's fingers slipped from her overstimulated flesh. She heard the wet sounds and her eyes snapped open, knowing what he was doing. She watched as he sucked her off his fingers, murmuring "so fuckin sweet". He looked at her when he finished and grinned sheepishly, "Told ya, ya made me a dirty bastard."

Carol didn't hesitate, hitting her knees without a second thought. If he wanted dirty, she was about to give it to him.

Carol grabbed for his belt buckle and had it open before his surprised hands could join in the fray. His engorged cock sprang free. She looked up at him with a wicked grin and licked it from base to tip without breaking eye contact. He shuddered and moaned, eyes closing. Carol sat back a little then and just waited. After a few seconds his eyes opened and he seemed a little confused as he looked down at her.

She motioned to the mirror and spit his own words back at him.

"Nope. Not unless you watch."

Unlike Carol, Daryl didn't have to be asked twice. He moved his eyes to the mirror and groaned when he saw her take his head in her mouth, flicking her tongue over it. Then, without warning, she engulfed him, taking him all the way to the back of her throat.

"WHAT THE HELL, Carol!"

She grinned around him and met his eyes in the mirror, then gave him a wink.

He growled, "That's right, that's my dirty girl. Ya like doin' that, don't ya?"

She moaned around him, wanting to give him a really good show. Daryl loved her to use her mouth on him but had always refused to let her finish him that way. Carol hoped the liquor would loosen Daryl up enough for her to do this for him.

Her hands hooked into his waistband and jerked his jeans to his ankles all the while her mouth bobbed on his cock. She used all the tools in her arsenal, one hand cupping his scrotum while the other fisted the base of his cock when she needed a break from him being all the way in the back of her throat. She rolled his balls in her hand and then tugged gently. Daryl's hand found it's way to her hair then, gently speeding up her rhythm as he growled and cursed above her.

"Fuck...Carol...I'm... Ya gotta.."

He was close and was trying to get her to pull off. Carol gripped his ass and pulled him toward her as she hollowed her cheeks and took all of him. She felt his balls tighten and then he was in her mouth, hot and salty as his hand tightened in her hair almost painfully.

"FUCKIN HELL, CAROL!"

She rode out the orgasm with him, staying in her place until he started to soften in her mouth. She pulled back and looked up at his wide eyes with a smirk, making sure he saw her swallow.

Daryl fell gracelessly onto his ass on the floor in front of her, his pants around his ankles and a goofy grin on his face. She smiled back and grabbed the liquor bottle from the counter to take the last drink.

"Where the HELL did ya learn ta do that?" he asked, sounding almost in awe.

She shrugged, "Just seemed to be the right thing at the time."

"Ya didn't have ta...ya know..."

"I wanted to. What can I say? I'm a dirty girl." Carol laughed then, the thought that she was a 'dirty girl' sounding absurd to her ears.

Daryl chuckled and pulled her into his arms, kissing her hard before correcting her.

"Nah, not A dirty girl. MY dirty girl."

Now that sounded right.

**Soooooo, what did you think? Give me the good and the bad! I wanted Carol to come out of this one with an improved sexual self image. I also struggled with Daryl using 'dirty bitch' instead of 'dirty girl' but it just sounded so OOC so I scrapped it. One last question, would y'all like some Meth (Merle/Beth) mixed in a little? I mean, if anybody knows dirty sex it's Merle right?**


	4. Hunter and Hellcat

**Just a kinda smutty little thing I needed to get out of my head after I saw the Season 4 trailer. I couldn't write on my AU 'Country' until I released some of my Season 4 feels. I can write a part two to this if you guys want, to finish it out. Review and let me know!**

**WARNING: At this point do I have to post warnings? Guys, it's BDSM. Somebody's gonna be in charge, people are gonna inflict pain. As usual, both are obviously consenting with the sub urging the dominant on verbally.**

Carol lifted the blanket of their cell, throwing her set of gate keys on Daryl's chest where he slept on the top bunk.

"Wake up, sunshine!" she crowed cheerily.

His only answer was a crude hand gesture, not even opening his eyes. She just chuckled and went over to the bunk, shaking it with her shoulder against the metal next to where his head lay.

"Dammit, why ya gotta be all cheery and shit?" he grumbled, sitting up and running a hand over his face. He motioned for his cigarettes but Carol already had them and his lighter in her hand. She tossed them to him and he caught them deftly despite still seeming half asleep. He lit one before sliding down from his bunk and then headed straight for Carol where she bent over, rummaging through their shared clean clothes basket. Daryl hesitated, cocking his head to the the side for a second, making sure he didn't hear anyone else up and about. He and Carol were always the first ones up but it didn't hurt to check. He didn't hear anything so he proceeded to hook one arm around her waist, pulling her up against him. He took the cig from his mouth with the other hand, holding it away from them just in case she jumped.

She didn't, just relaxing against him as he ground his morning wood against her ass. An ass that had grown even more lovely over the past winter, as had her titties with the addition of the Woodbury supplies.

"Down boy. You're due at tower one in ten minutes."

"Fuck." Daryl grunted, still not stopping his motions.

"Nope, not right now sorry." Carol reached up and tugged on his now longer hair. Daryl brought his mouth to her neck nipping her before licking a trail up to her ear. "Bet I can make ya come and still make the tower on time."

Carol wiggled against him and he groaned. "Eight minutes now Dixon. And that includes me and you walking the fence so I can report off all of last nights activities."

He let her go at that. "What fuckin activities? Ya know if shit goes down ya 'sposed ta come get me."

She turned around and shook her head. "Just more walkers. Groups. I'll explain down there. Get changed." Carol thrust his day clothes into his hands. He began to change out of his sleep clothes, a wife beater and an old pair of pants, into his day clothes. Carol just stood, propped on the corner of the cell. He griped as he changed, despite knowing she was watching him.

"This goddamn new watch schedule is fuckin ridiculous." Daryl hissed, careful to keep his voice down. "We ain't fucked in over two days."

Carol made a pouty face and walked over to him. "Aw, poor baby. Is the equipment going to dry up and fall off?" Daryl finished buttoning his shirt and grabbed her, turning to pin her against the wall, his hips grinding into hers.

"This feel like it's dryin up, woman?" He ducked his head to kiss her searingly. When he finally pulled back she was flushed and it made him feel smug.

"I think you're fine for now." Carol held up her arm and looked at the watch he had gotten her on the last run. "Six minutes, now you have to eat breakfast while we walk the fence." He let her go and ran his hand through his hair. Carol slipped from between him and the wall, snagging the leather jacket he'd been wearing all winter and throwing it to him. He slipped it on with a scowl while she grinned.

"I think Rick has us fuckin figured out. That's why he did that damn rotation like that."

Carol shook her head and giggled. "You really think he has?"

They had been sleeping together for over eight months now, since right after Woodbury moved in. The, well, really dirty stuff had started a couple months after that. Daryl looked down at the marks on his wrists from the rope they had used last time. It had taken him forty some odd years to figure out he was a dirty fucker. And Carol was up for any damn thing he suggested. They were still hiding their relationship right now and that was just fine for both of them. Neither was big on public displays of affection. He told her he cared by the kills he brought her in the kitchen, by cleaning her gun and sharpening her knife. She washed his clothes and worried over every little cut and bruise he acquired. Every bruise except the ones she made, she didn't worry about those at all. She had matching ones on her body. They both had been forged in pain in the old world, now they found their release in it, just a little, enough to magnify the pleasure into ecstasy.

Here he was thinking about fucking ecstasy and he had to go sit in damn Tower One for eight hours with nothing but his right hand to keep him company.

"Fuck yeah he knows. Why else would he have us on opposite shifts over half the time. Thinks he's all funny and shit." Daryl grabbed the bow and slid it over his shoulder.

"If that's so, maybe he thinks you fight better when you're sexually frustrated."

"Then I'm the best goddamn walker killer in America right now. Come on." He slapped her ass as he passed her, picking up the blanket to step out. They made their way down to the kitchen side by side, not touching or belying their true relationship. Daryl grabbed one of the bowls off the counter and gave it a look before meeting Carol's eyes. Her being on night watch meant someone from Woodbury had made the food.

"Daryl," she leaned over and whispered. "It's just roast tenderloin. Hard to mess up."

"Still ain't as good as yores." he whispered back before pinching a chunk off and shoving it in his mouth. He grimaced, yep, definitely not as good as hers. It would keep his belly from growling before lunch though. He followed her along the fence line, eating as she gave him the report.

It was getting worse, just like it had been all month. There were dozens at tower three, and they didn't come as stragglers anymore. Always herds, sometimes big ones sometimes smaller, but always herds. She stopped and they stood side by side as she finished up. Daryl looked around, making sure they were alone in the secluded corner of the yard before tearing off a piece of the meat and holding it up in front of her. Carol raised an eyebrow and leaned over, taking it with her mouth, pausing to suck the tip of his finger hard. Before she let go she bit him, not hard but not soft either, just the way she knew he liked it elsewhere. Daryl took in a breathe sharply but didn't pull away until she released him.

"You'll pay for that bite." he husked deeply.

Carol just smirked up at him. "Promises promises."

"Promises my ass. I got a length a fuckin rope with your name all over it."

"I'll believe it when I see it Dixon. You're getting brave though, letting me suck on your finger in the yard."

"Ain't brave, I'm just fuckin horny." he groused.

Carol laughed then and took the bowl after he finished with the food. She looked around for a second before returning the swat on the ass he gave her in their cell before she made her way inside to sleep.

Daryl stalked to Tower One. This was going to be one long ass day.

TWDAUTWDAUTWDAUTWDAUTWDAUTWDAUTWDAUTWDAUTWDAU

Daryl really tried not to roll his eyes as Karen asked him another stupid question. He had reported off already. Walkers, walkers, and, oh yeah, some more fuckin walkers. She smiled up at him and stepped a little too closely into his personal space. He leaned back and scowled at her, hoping she would take the hint. She had been trying to push up on him for the last two months and he had done everything except tell her outright he wasn't interested. Wasn't but one woman in this prison who was into the same shit he was.

Hell, if Karen knew half the stuff he liked in bed (and in the tombs, the showers, the motorpool, and everyone of the watch towers) she'd run screaming. Carol just begged for more. Maybe they should leave some of their stuff for Karen to find, wouldn't that be a pisser. Most of it couldn't be identified as sex stuff, though, by itself. A length of good strong rope, a pair of hand cuffs, a couple of strong eye bolts he drilled into one wall of a solitary cell a couple months ago when he got a free minute. He could always leave the rope hooked up in the bolts though. And the whip. That mother fuckin whip. He had made that two months ago, out of some buckskin. Carol had looked at him like he was crazy, even after he had told her he worked on it for a week during his time in the guard tower.

Daryl had tested it over and over, making it small so it would be balanced for Carol's hand. He had worked the buckskin strips, getting them just soft enough so they wouldn't leave permanent marks while still being stiff enough that it had a good sting to it when used properly. He had tested it over and over on his own forearm as he worked to make sure it was perfect. Then he knotted the strips randomly, to give it a little extra bite. And bite it did, holy fuck, the first time he convinced Carol to use it on him, Daryl came so hard he screamed himself hoarse down in that solitary cell they used. Actually, it really wasn't a whip, it was a cat o'nine tails, if they wanted to use the correct term. Daryl knew that much. He didn't care, they just called it the whip.

"What?"

Daryl's head snapped up. "Huh?"

"You said something? Sounded like cattails or something?" Karen asked, still in his personal space.

Daryl felt the blush coming. He might be a dirty fucker in private, but he was still painfully shy. "Nothing. Just tired I guess. I need ta go in and get to bed." He pushed past her, going in, but sure as shit wasn't about to go to bed. Carol should have woke up an hour ago.

Daryl walked into the kitchen and Beth was washing dishes while Lil' Asskicker slept in her playpen. He looked down at her as he passed. The little thing was growing every day and that was something in this fucked up world they lived in now.

"Ya seen Carol?"

Beth looked over her shoulder at the battery operated clock Herschel had insisted they put up on the wall. "Yeah. She's teaching the girl's knife class in the library. Should be done in about an hour."

Shit, he had forgot about that. She had been all excited about it last night. Carol was the best one to be teaching it, that's for sure. She had become the best one in close quarters with a blade, besides him. And that was close, she had almost bested him a time or two during practice. He had more power but she was nimble, flexible. Daryl nearly lost his train of thought again as he remembered just how flexible she could be.

An hour, a goddamn hour. What was he supposed to do till then? Daryl thought as he climbed the steps to their cell. He could always get everything ready, make it so once he had her they were good to go. If someone had seen the smirk Daryl had on his face as he headed down into the tombs with a coil of rope, they would have thought he had been possessed by the devil himself.

TWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWDTWD

Carol hummed to herself as she stowed the box of knives with the rest of the school supplies. The girls had done really well, especially with the safety portion, which had been the major part of today's lesson since it was the first one on those weapons. She took one last look around the library before she closed the blinds to the natural day light to leave. The prison was truly becoming a home now. If only they could figure out why the walkers were getting worse and how to stop it. Also, several people had gotten ill, enough that Herschel had decided it would be best to quarantine the sick.

Carol tried to push those thoughts out of her head as she headed back to the cell block. Daryl should have gotten off an hour ago, would be waiting and ...

She didn't have time to finish the thought before she was jerked into a side hallway. A arm was like an iron band around her waist while a rough hand clamped down over her mouth to silence her scream of surprise. She found herself thrust against a cinder block wall with what felt like another wall of granite pushing against her back and a rough voice growling in her ear.

"Told ya I'd pay ya back for that fuckin bite."

Carol grinned under Daryl's hand a second before he pulled it away from her mouth. "Took you long enough, I thought you'd grab me in the library."

"Nah. Figured there'd be some pissed parents if a little kid saw what the teacher was like when she wasn't teachin."

Carol giggled and twisted in Daryl's hands as he swept his scruff along her neck, giving her chill bumps. "If that's payback, then you're getting soft."

Suddenly his hard cock was grinding into her ass, even more insistent than that morning. "That feel soft ta you?" he hissed. "You've been gettin sassy lately. I'm gonna have ta find somethin ta fill that pretty mouth of yours."

"Better be careful, I bite."

Daryl slapped her ass hard then and Carol moaned. No fair, that was cheating. She knew the odds were she had gotten him tickled, and he smacked her ass to keep from having to talk. True to form, even during dirty sex, Daryl Dixon preferred action to words. She was swept away from the wall and then hitched up over his shoulder without even a grunt. They might have gained a few pounds with the additions to their stores, but all his had been pure muscle, he was stronger now than ever. Her head hung down his back, bobbing, as he stalked off down the dark hallway. She didn't mind at all, having learned after the first couple of times he carried her like this that it gave her wonderful access to his glorious ass.

Carol snaked her hand down between his waistband and skin and laughed.

"Daryl, you had underwear on this morning, what happened?" she teased.

"Got rid of it 'fore I came down here. Now shut the fuck up."

She let her hand continue on and slide down over his ass. God, the way those muscles bunched and moved when he walked. If she wasn't mistaken, she should have left a pretty good bite mark on the left cheek, the last time they were together, right about THERE. Carol pinched the spot hard and Daryl's step faltered.

"Fuckin HELL WOMAN!"

He didn't set her down, just turned his head and bit down on nearly the same spot on her. Even through her jeans it hurt enough to make her yelp.

"OW!"

"Serves ya right, ya goddamn hellcat."

He took a few more steps before she asked. "We headed to the playroom?"

"Yep."


	5. Hunter and Hellcat Part II

**The second half of this is a bit darker than the first. But I think it really helps explain why BDSM works for these two characters. It helps show how the 'playroom' is where they let their guard down with each other totally.**

**THIS STORY IS UP FOR AN HONOR! This story is currently tied for first place in the Best Smut Category in the Caryl fanfiction contest at the Tumblr site 4theloveofcaryl. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE GO THERE AND SEND A MESSAGE TO VOTE FOR THIS STORY! IT WOULD BE INCREDIBLE FOR THIS TO WIN! PLEASE REVIEW! I'm hoping to start updating this again often.**

_Oh, the reason I hold on_

_Oh, is I need this hole gone_

_Funny, you're the broken one_

_But I'm the only one that needed saving_

_Cause when you never see the light_

_It's hard to know which one of us is caving_

_-Stay by Rihanna featuring Mikki Echo_

Daryl dumped Carol onto the single bunk of the solitary cell wordlessly. He had grown quiet as they had gotten further down into the tombs. She pushed up a little on the bunk. He had lit the oil lantern before snatching her and the room was cast in flickering light and shadows.

"So, whose..." Carol began, but it was already obvious what roles they were each going to fill this time. Daryl was hurriedly stripping, taking his place against the wall. Once he was naked he faced the cinder block, but not touching, inches away. He reached his arms up and slipped his hands through the loops of rope that hung from the eye bolts, his arms outstretched at forty five degree angles instead of straight up. Carol sat up and watched him. The muscles in his back rippled as he moved. This was part of it, him preparing himself. After a moment of near silence, the only sound his breath as it hitched out of his chest, he gave her what she was waiting on.

"M'ready."

Carol stood and undressed slowly until she was clad only in her bra and panties, the black set that was his favorite when he was like this. She had changed into them when she woke up, knowing they were headed here. She slowly walked over to stand just under where one of his wrists hung in a loop. Daryl had taken to tying the knots himself, using different ones for him, crueler ones that bit into his skin instead of the more lax ones that spared her body marks. All she had to do was pull on the loop that hung next to his hand to tighten it. She did and the rope closed around his wrist. She hesitated, watching Daryl. His head hung down, his now longer hair hiding his face. He was already there, in that place in his head that he went when they did this. He shook his head once, and she pulled harder on the loop until it bit into his skin. He grunted and she had her answer, it was good.

Carol did the same to the other side and she took a second to look at him in the dimness. His face was obscured by his hair, his chest nearly heaving, arms and shoulders strained. Feet shoulder width apart as his cock already jutted up hard and pulsing. She wanted to touch it, stroke it so bad that her hand ached but she couldn't yet. That would be breaking the rules, there were things that had to be done first or else his release wouldn't be complete.

"Do you trust me?" Carol asked quietly as she reached to pick up the whip where it hung from the bolt.

"Yes'm." Daryl murmured, voice as close to baritone as it ever got. He didn't look up from the concrete at his feet.

"Do you know that I won't hurt you?" The meaning of the question was understood. To inflict pain was one thing, that was what he wanted her to do. But hurting him was another, to cause actual injury to him, body or soul.

"Yes'm."

Carol stood a little straighter, her shoulders squaring as she gripped the whip. The thing that had scared her so badly two months ago now felt like an extension of her own body as she held it in her hand. Daryl wasn't the only one who went somewhere else in their head during these times.

"What happened yesterday?" she asked, taking her place behind him easily. She already knew exactly where to stand so her arm would reach perfectly as her arm lashed out.

"I fucked up tha run. Sasha died and it was m'fault." Daryl said, voice flat. This wasn't a time for emotion. It was for pure need, a time to tear down and rebuild.

Carol knew what he said wasn't the truth, Michonne had told her that the death was unavoidable. But Daryl didn't see it that way and would carry the burden until she cleansed him of it.

"That's not true, Daryl." She adjusted her stance a bit and readied her arm.

"M'fault." he mumbled and she brought the whip down across his back. He grunted when it made contact, his body jerking. Her core flooded with wet warmth, the absolute power she wielded over him nearly overwhelming.

Carol brought it down twice more, knowing one stroke wouldn't be enough to absolve his mind of the death of one of their own. After the third one, his head hung between his shoulders, the whelps on his back red even in the dim light of the lamp. That had been the only thing she had refused to do for him. Whelps were allowed, they faded as did bruises and bite marks. But a scarring wound was beyond her, he was marked enough.

"It wasn't your fault Daryl." she said with a tone of grim finality. She waited and finally got her answer.

"Yes'm."

She wouldn't make him speak anymore, make him confess. That part was the hardest for him, more difficult to bear than the lash against his skin. She could do the rest, the others had told her enough, and she knew the broken man in front of her nearly as well as she knew herself.

"I know about the fight. You didn't hurt Tyreese because you knew he wasn't in his right mind. You could have killed him but you didn't." She brought the whip down and it cracked across his lower back. This part wasn't for his perceived wrongs. It was releasing the tension of being a man he believed he wasn't worthy to be.

Daryl nodded, telling her to continue, it was enough.

"You're leading the defense team, speaking on your own in the meetings. You are a man of honor." The whip came down again and he groaned.

"You brought back the whole team from the run for medical supplies, despite being caught in a herd. You are a brave man, a strong man." The whip cracked again, this time over his ass and the muscles tensed and bunched. She nearly moaned in her own need, glad this part was nearly over but afraid of the bit that lie ahead. The first part was where he thought he had failed their family. The second where he thought he was failing himself.

The last was where Daryl thought he had failed her.

Carol swallowed, willing her voice not to crack. "You weren't here when I was caught at the creek. It wasn't your fault." He shuddered at her words and she moved quickly, unable to watch him. The buckskin bit into the flesh of his ass and thighs.

"Shoulda been here." She almost didn't hear him. A second later the whip cracked a bit louder, she wouldn't let him bear that burden.

"No, Daryl. It wasn't your fault." Her arm came down again.

"Almost lost ya, like I lose everythin." His voice wavered and she strained her arm, bringing it down and across harder than she ever had, afraid of her own tears now. He cried out this time, a wordless noise that told her he had been absolved.

"It's not your fault. And I'm still here with you."

He nodded slowly, hair swinging in the shadows. Carol dropped the whip on the floor, it was no longer needed. She moved toward him as his chest heaved his breath into the damp air of the room. She moved her hands behind her to undo her bra and then let it fall to press her breasts against his back. She knew the coolness of her against his fevered and red skin soothed the sting. When he felt her he hissed between clenched teeth.

"Hurt s'good." he murmured and Carol nodded against him.

"You did so good, baby. It's all gone now." she whispered before pressing her lips against a whelp high on his back. He sighed and pulled against his bonds, pressing back against her. After a moment Carol moved around him, to stand in the space between his body and the wall. The concrete was cool against her back but Daryl was so hot against her front that he almost seemed to scald her. His cock pressed huge and purple against her belly, a bead of pre-cum on the head. One time he had come while she wielded the whip, but he had taught himself to wait it out, until he could touch her. She brought her index finger down to catch the wet and then brought it to her lips. He watched through half lidded eyes as she sucked him off her finger and he groaned deep in his chest. As soon as she pulled her finger from between her lips he ducked his head and she met him as his arms strained on either side of them.

This wasn't a kiss, it was too animalistic. It was a claiming, a declaration of a mate. His tongue shoved itself into every corner of her mouth and she gave it up gladly. Her time of domination was over, now it was her turn to be dominated.

Carol shoved her hand down in her panties, fingers sliding between soaked folds as her other hand gripped his cock and tugged. Daryl's hips bucked forward, brushing against where her other hand worked her clit. She could have come and come fast that way but she pulled away before she did. She would give him that honor today, of making her go over. Instead, she pulled her fingers out from between the soaked fabric and her pussy to bring them up, hesitating between their faces. Daryl's nostrils flared and she knew he was smelling her. He growled, letting her know that she better not dare put those fingers in her own mouth.

That was his, and his only.

They pushed between his lips and he sucked her off them greedily, making deep noises of appreciation in his chest. His hips bucked forward, pinning her against the wall. His need was immediate and he wasn't thinking, just trying to find relief in friction. Carol pulled her fingers from his mouth and tangled them in his hair pulling his face to hers. He bit her lip hard before he took her mouth again. Her free hand shot out and reached for the release on the knot at his wrist but the way he had her pinned she couldn't reach it. He was already straining so hard against his bonds that his shoulders were stone against her. She broke the kiss, gasping out.

"Daryl...you gotta...gonna hurt yourself..."

He wasn't listening, just snarling as his teeth bit into her ear. He growled loudly and she heard a screech of metal against cinder block. Then a metallic snap and his right hand came down to punish her hip in a bruising grip. Carol's eyes widened and she nearly came in her panties when she realized what he had done.

Daryl had ripped the bolt out of the wall.

She didn't have a lot of time to process it because a second later he did the same on the left. Carol cried out, her eyes rolling back in her head at the image. Daryl bit her shoulder hard and then her feet left the floor as he hitched her up on his shoulders where he stood, her legs dangling over his back. He took a quick half step back instinctively, letting her tilt back against the wall to balance. But then he made a guttural noise of frustration. A scant scrap of silk separated him from his goal.

Not for long though, because he brought one hand up to grab the g-string where it looped over her hip and ripped it away with a grunt of satisfaction. Daryl buried his mouth in her, drinking her down. His tongue was merciless, assaulting her clit and then driving as deeply into her as he could push before doing it all again.

He didn't give her an orgasm, he ripped it from her body. The only thing Carol could do was pull at his hair from where she was suspended on his shoulders while screaming and it only spurred him on. Her wet flooded his mouth, encouraging him with her taste and smell.

Only when her screams stopped bouncing off the walls did Carol feel him jerk her down from his shoulders roughly. Her feet only hit the floor for a half a second before a rough hand on the back of her neck forced her onto her knees. She let him have it, this control. Daryl had let her have him under her command, so now Carol was his to do with as he wished, as he needed. Even when (sometimes especially when) he was like this, she was always satisfied. Daryl needed her, like no other man ever had. She was the only one who could satisfy this drive in him, and it was in that she had the true power. It was no matter who had the upper hand at the moment.

He pushed her forward and then she was on her hands and knees. Daryl pulled her thighs apart roughly as he fell to his knees behind her. Then he grunted, thrusting into her primally, with no thought for restraint or rhythm. This wasn't sex. This wasn't even fucking. This was animal rutting and he had just mounted her.

Daryl was hitting her harder than he ever had, the head of his cock hitting the end her a little. It hurt, but only enough to cause another orgasm to surprise her, leaving Carol so weak that her arms collapsed under her, pressing her chest to the floor. Daryl growled behind her at the new angle and then roared, his knees digging into the concrete as he ground his hips against her ass. It was instinct for him to plant his seed as deeply as he could. He fell forward with the exertion and when his face contacted her neck he bit her so hard he tasted copper. She moaned even though she was spent beneath him, knowing she was marked as his. There would be no hiding this.

Carol came to herself with Daryl still laying half over her in the concrete floor. He was dead weight, telling her he was still in that away place that it sometimes took him a while to come back from. She slipped out from under him and then pushed on his hip to roll him onto his back. Daryl flopped over, body loose and spent. These were the only times she ever saw him truly relaxed. He stared ahead through half lidded eyes, looking at nothing. She looked at his body in the flickering of the lamp flame. Daryl's wrists were still bound in the rope, the bolts tied to the ends, traces of blood showing where the rope had bit through the skin. His knees were scraped and she knew his back was a criss cross of whelps over twisted scars. He was glorious and perfect, a war god.

Carol crawled over to his bag that he must have set in the corner before he snatched her and dug out a bottle of water and the ibuprofen she had started stashing there for times like these. She propped his head in her lap, putting the pills in his mouth before coaxing him to swallow them with some water. It took a minute to get him to understand what she was wanting, but then he got them down. Even with the meds, she may have to make up a story to explain to Herschel why he had strained his arms and cut up his wrists. Daryl nodded his thanks after guzzling half the bottle of water. It always took a while for his speech to return afterward but that was okay. She understood his silent language long before he ever really talked with her. They were the same, forged in pain. Made strong by what had hurt them. And freed by what had once had kept them captive.


End file.
